


You make the whole room feel slow-motion

by Toomanyfandoms99



Series: Supernatural Season 15 Codas [9]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel in the Men of Letters Bunker (Supernatural), Coda, Episode: s15e09 The Trap, F/M, Fluff, Library, M/M, Men of Letters Bunker (Supernatural)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-18
Updated: 2020-01-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:07:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22296799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toomanyfandoms99/pseuds/Toomanyfandoms99
Summary: His lips move carefully to form the words, his lack of hesitation a gift and a curse.  “Maybe Sam has the right idea,” Dean parses.Castiel doesn’t breathe, but he doesn’t look away.“We have to make the most of every second,” Dean draws out, “no more hesitation.  No more if’s, and’s, or but’s.”
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester
Series: Supernatural Season 15 Codas [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1517966
Comments: 8
Kudos: 167





	You make the whole room feel slow-motion

**Author's Note:**

> The title was taken from the song “Crowded Room” by Selena Gomez.

Dean plops on the kitchen table, rubbing at his eye and sighing. Castiel stares from his position beside Dean, gripping the mug handle just to grip something.

“Sam’s really torn up about Eileen leaving,” Dean says, tired eyes drooping from the weight of the day. “Turns out the kid kissed her.”

Castiel says nothing, but his mind runs wild.

He wanted to kiss Dean in Purgatory. He really wanted to, after Dean prayed and hugged him and looked at him like he is Dean’s savior.

Castiel doesn’t, though. He doesn’t.

Dean’s gaze slides from the tabletop over to Castiel’s weary face. The gaze lingers without either speaking a word. Castiel will not be the one to break the silence.

“The Mark,” Dean asks, “do you feel it yet?”

Castiel shakes his head.

“Good,” Dean fiddles with his hands, steepling fingers just to have something to do with his hands, “I hope it is kinder to you than it was to me.”

Castiel doubts it; the Mark’s side effects will appear in a matter of time. He does not envy his future self for having to deal with it.

Dean’s gaze still lingers, lingers, lingers. He doesn’t so much as blink.

His lips move carefully to form the words, his lack of hesitation a gift and a curse. “Maybe Sam has the right idea,” Dean parses.

Castiel doesn’t breathe, but he doesn’t look away.

“We have to make the most of every second,” Dean draws out, “no more hesitation. No more if’s, and’s, or but’s.”

Castiel rests his elbow on the wooden tabletop, lifting his hand from the mug. The hand rests on his cheek as it tilts in Dean’s direction.

“It would be really great if you said something,” Dean says, a little fearfully, “really welcomed, actually.”

Castiel studies Dean, how nervous and flustered he is, and savors it.

“I’ve been waiting, you know,” Castiel says gruffly, “waiting a very long time.”

Dean holds his breath, frozen with his lips slightly parted. His eyes flicker from Castiel’s lips to his eyes to his hair.

“I’m sorry,” Dean exhales, “I’m...kind of an idiot.”

“There is no need to repeat your prayer,” Castiel says smoothly, “though it’s appreciated that you would like to again.”

Dean is entranced as he stares. Castiel is too absorbed in his belief that he is dreaming to register a blush.

“Where is your favorite place in the bunker?” Dean asks.

Castiel blinks in consideration, then voices, “the library.”

A smile tugs at the corner of Dean’s mouth, and he rises from the chair. “Come with me.”

Castiel sees Dean walking out of the kitchen, and Castiel follows absently. Down the hallway, past the war room, rounding the staircase and entering the expansive library.

Shelves of lore fan out the edges of Castiel’s vision, and Dean turns to face him. Castiel stiffens at the shocking clarity in his eyes.

Dean smiles, crow’s feet crinkling at the corners of his eyes. He examines Castiel appreciatively, and it warms Castiel’s stomach.

“I want to kiss you,” Dean admits softly, “even though I know it’ll hurt later.”

Castiel realizes that he isn’t dreaming. This is real, and tangible, and he’s in his favorite place.

Their window of happiness shortens by the minute. Dean is willing, and Castiel is too, to make the most of it.

“Can I?” Dean asks. “Maybe?”

Castiel’s lips quirk upwards. Dean is being very endearing; he has never acted this way with anyone else before. 

Of all Dean’s love interests, none were rare enough to get Dean to look at them like...like this. Like Dean looks at him now. 

Shy when making a move, but confident in his feelings for Castiel.

So Castiel smiles, and takes the leap for Dean.

Dean’s cheek is rough and warm when Castiel’s palm cups it. Dean’s body is solid and hot when Castiel’s arm twines around the dip of his spine and moves him closer. Dean’s mouth is soft and sure when Castiel presses into it with his own.

Dean whines as Castiel’s stubble brushes his jaw, and his hands fist Castiel’s dress shirt, untucking it from his slacks.

Castiel’s heart thumps in his throat, and he surrenders, dragging their lips together. It is sloppy but perfect, exactly right for them.

“Oh, Cas,” Dean sighs, words reverberating on Castiel’s teeth, “I’ve wanted to do this for so long.”

Castiel pants as his shirt untucks from his belt, and he bites Dean’s lip. Dean whimpers, hands trailing up Castiel’s shirt, but not unfastening any buttons. His fists clamp over Castiel’s chest, feeling how hard his heart pumps.

Dean turns towards Castiel’s hand, slipping away from Castiel’s lips. His lashes flutter up to Castiel’s face.

“Where’d you learn to kiss like that?” Dean breathes, finger pads touching his swollen lips lightly.

“Don’t like it?” Castiel rasps, choosing to step away, untwining his arm and removing his hand from Dean’s face.

But Dean doesn’t let go of his shirt. He is dragged along with Castiel’s steps, staring at him with a childlike eagerness.

“No, I…” Dean’s sparkling eyes flicker to his lips, then back up again. “I loved it. I was just a little...surprised.” He laughs awkwardly, biting his bottom lip; Castiel feels a swoop of desire in his bloodstream. “I didn’t think you’d,” Dean blushes the color of his lips, “you’d do this to me.”

“Reduce you to a stuttering mess, you mean?” Castiel asks smoothly, shocked that he can think, let alone speak coherently.

Dean laughs, beams and genuinely laughs. His fists fall away from Castiel’s chest, crumpling his dress shirt carelessly.

Dean nudges his nose against Castiel’s cheek, suddenly very close. His lashes flutter against Castiel’s skin, causing him to smile.

“I need you, Cas,” Dean murmurs into Castiel’s lips, “you know that, right?”

Castiel sucks on Dean’s bottom lip, then withdraws lightly. “I do now,” he rumbles, loving the way Dean shudders against him.

“Good,” Dean whispers, “good.”

Suddenly, their foreheads are pressed together, and they sway in a half-embrace, half-dance.

Castiel closes his eyes, Dean pecking his lips quickly.

Castiel allows himself to breathe, live in the moment. It is unusual to be so content, but Castiel is going to take what he can get.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are appreciated!


End file.
